“I remember taking my turn with you more than once that evening....”
Summer 1774, Inclenburg, New York, Murray residence
The dance hall was buzzing with people. Hundreds of people from the surrounding area came to the Murray residence for the annual summer ball, which was one of the most important events of the year. People of the highest stature came, to see and be seen, with the hopes that they would impress the venerable Murray family. The music was festive, the conversation enjoyable, and the summer heat unbearable; it truly was a night to remember.
Beatrice Whaley was standing off near the wall, away from the crowds. She was not entirely in the mood for dancing, ever since she had received the letter from Alan Warren. Ever since she had first read those paragraphs, she was in a most terrible mood. “Milly Weaver! If I ever get my hands on her...”, that thought, along with others, filled Bea's mind up the entire night. The idea of Alan dancing with an other girl other than herself was unimaginable. She knew she shouldn't be thinking that; indeed, she shouldn't even have been jealous, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get those angry thoughts out of her head. So, for the first minutes or so of the party, Bea kept to herself, scowling with an immature rage.
It was nearing midnight when Bea was by herself, when she heard the sound of footsteps nearing her. She was looking out into the dark countryside from her view of the balcony, admiring the view she had.
The footsteps stopped beside her, but she daren't look next to her. She didn't want company. “Please leave, please leave, please leave...”, Bea thought, hoping that this would somehow make the figure leave her alone.
But the figure didn't leave her alone. Instead, to Bea's chagrin, it started to talk. “Beatrice, why are you out here all by yourself? You should be out dancing and having fun.” Bea finally turned and saw who was next to her. A handsome redhead with piercing blue eyes was looking at her, with an inquiring look. She knew who he was all too well.
“If you must know, Alexander, I'm not really in the mood for frivolity and merrymaking tonight," Bea replied, with a tinge of hostility. This however, didn't seem to put off Alexander at all. He chuckled quietly to himself, and looked out into the distance.
“It is certainly beautiful tonight," Alexander said, looking up at the sky, “but not as beautiful as you.”
Bea giggled, and said, “Oh please, you're just saying that to make me laugh.”
With a smile on his face, Alexander answered, “Well it worked, whether or not I wanted to make you laugh. But with all due respect Miss Whaley," he then turned to meet Bea's gaze, “forget about Alan tonight. Have some fun. Dance, laugh, be merry. That's what balls are about, aren't they?”
Bea didn't have an answer for that. For a few moments, the pair stood in silence, looking at each other. In the pale light of the moon, Bea couldn't help but see how handsome he looked. His face, his mouth, his eyes....
Bea internally shook herself, and finally broke the silence by saying, “I would love to dance with you.”
Alexander smiled, and took Bea's arm into his and said, “Let's dance the night away.”